Angel Blue
by MaddyWinchester
Summary: "Dean, what's that you hiding behind your back?" "It's a guitar Cas." "Could you play something for me?" Dean sings Castiel a song, as an expression of gratitude for everything that he's done. The song is called Angel Blue. One-shot. Pre-desitel if you wish to.


**AN: Hi Guys! So, I wrote a one-shot of Dean singing Cas a song (or really the song came first), which is called Angel Blue. And it's sort of his way of saying thanks, because we all know that Dean doesn't do the touchy feely crap, right? I suppose it can be sort of pre-destiel if you squint a bit. And the characters are possibly a bit oc. **

**I do not own supernatural or any of the characters, big downer there but it's true. Oh, and the song that Dean's singing, I wrote it myself in like half an hour or something. Maybe if you really want, I'll post the entire song as well sometime. But enough talking, enjoy!**

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The soft sound of a strumming guitar filled up the dead-silent room, the accords mixing in harmony, creating the perfect sound that he was looking for. Finally, after hours and hours of testing and rearranging, Dean had managed to make find it at last. The guitar itself was not in any way the best quality, he had bought in in a pawn shop a few years ago practically for free, but it sounded pretty good. It had started out more as a cool thing to have, a guitar of his own. Like a rock star or something. And those things definitely scored major bonus point with the ladies, being able to play the guitar. And that right there is exactly what he will tell anyone who manages to find out about his musical abilities. But in truth, he simply loved playing. It was a big stress relief; he could get his feelings out without being forced to have the awkward touchy feely crap talks with Sam. Not really having to say anything himself, but letting the music speak for him. He started practicing between hunts, always when Sammy was away, and then it sort of just escalated from there. It started with recreating his favorite Zeppelin songs, into start experimenting with creating his own melodies. And then recently, he had even begun writing lyrics to them as well.

Of course, he never told anyone about any of it. Why, he didn't really know fully himself. It was just so personal, so raw. Definitely not something that people would expect from a badass hunter who's saved the world how many bloody times now? A lot of times anyway. This was so far from what you would expect, and Dean sure as hell did not want for people to start changing their thoughts on him. And frankly, he was kind of nervous about what they would say. He does a pretty good job convincing the entire world how awesome and absolutely not scared he is, besides from his little problem with planes but come on, that's freaking normal! Planes crash. But when it comes to his songs, there's plenty of insecurity. So yeah, he keeps it a secret. He'll probably keep doing it until the day when someone finally catches him or he dies, whichever comes first. Sighing, he played the last final chords, listening as the last one died out. Barley a second later, he heard the flutter of wings.

"Hello Dean." The familiar gravelly voice spoke from beside him, making him jump.

"Dammit Cas, how many times do I have to tell you to not do that? You're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days." He scolded half-heartedly, trying to figure out how to hide the guitar.

"I'm sorry Dean, I didn't mean to startle you. However I do not think that the risk of you acquiring a heart attack by me surprising you is fairly high. Of course, I will heal you right away."

"Right, thanks I guess." He turned around, keeping it hidden behind his back.

"What's up?" The voice was casual, a small undertone of worry.

"The ceiling Dean." The angel eyed him with his usual head tilt and puzzled expression.

"That's not what I meant Cas." The edge of his lips tugging in a smile.

"I meant, why are you here? Not that I'm not happy to see you of course. Sam's not here."

"Oh, I just…" He looked down at his feet, playing with the end of his sleeve. "I just wanted to see you, I can go…" Looking at him, almost made him want to scot over and give him a big hug. Almost.

"No, stay. I told you that you could come down any time due, I'm happy to see you. We're friends, right? Friends hang out to, not only when there's something to fight. Okay?"

"Yes Dean, Okay." The piercing blue eyes met green. _Damn, they're blue, unbelievably blue_.

"Dean, what's that you hiding behind your back?" Cas interrupted the hunter. Shit!

"Eh…" He frantically tried to think of an answer, but then decided to be honest for once. This was Cas, his best friend. The one who saved him, stood by him. Surely he could tell him this.

"It's a guitar Cas." The older Winchester finally replied, pulling it up and placing it in his lap so that he could see it better. The dark wood felt smooth under his hand, fitting perfectly like it was made just for him. The angel stepped closer, eying the object with interest.

"I wasn't aware of that you played Dean." He finally commented, slight admiration in his voice.

"Yeah, I haven't really told anyone about it." He shrugged, acting like it was no big deal.

"Could you play something for me?" What the hell? "Please." And then came the puppy eyes. The one face that Dean could never say no to. It was even better than Sam's. He was so gonna get it for teaching the angel how to do that. While a part of him wanted to yell no, another actually wanted to play for him. And he did have a perfect song in mind, one he had written just recently about the angel himself. As a way of saying thanks, for everything really. _What the hell_.

"Alright Cas. I want you to listen carefully now, deal?" He nodded, and sat down at the foot of the bed, giving the hunter his full attention. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and started strumming the strings, recreating the song that he had played many times before.

"A broken man who's lost the will

Simply living only for the kill

Passing through the motions of life

Waiting for the day that to die"

He started out singing softly, his voice nothing but a whisper. With time he lost himself in the song, singing out whole heartedly, keeping his eyes closed throughout the final chorus.

"I'm finding the strength to move on

When everything I know is gone

I find a life renewed

In the eyes of an angel blue

For a helping hand to carry me

Lifting me up so that I can see

From a different point of view

In the eyes of an angel blue

Oh, angel blue"

As the final chord drifted into silence, he finally opened his eyes to look at his winged friend. Castiel sat still as a statue, his eyes closed as well. Then he opened his eyes that were filled with tears.

"That was beautiful Dean, your voice is beautiful. "

"Thanks, it's nothing really. I'm not that good." The compliments made him uncomfortable.

"Yes Dean, you are. The way you sang, loosing yourself in the song like that, it was magical. It reminded me of the choir in heaven, how they would sing before it all fell apart."

"Oh." Was the only thing that came out. What are you supposed to respond to a thing like that?

"That song, it was about me wasn't it?"

"Yeah. I uh, I wanted to thank you I guess. For everything you know, you saving my ass."

"You're welcome, I'm happy to aid you in anything you require me for. But you're forgetting something important."

"Really? And what is that Cas?"

"You've saved me to Dean. You taught me about free will, that I could make my own choices. You gave me a place where I felt like I belonged, a place of family, a place to call home. Thank you."

"Any time Cas. It's what we do; family does everything for one another. "

"Family." He smiled, a genuine smile that only the angel could possibly pull off.

"Family." Dean agreed, grinning back. He may have lost a lot, but he still had his family. And his one special angel that would always watch his back, his angel blue. And really, that was what mattered.

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****So, what do you say? Was it worthy of a cherry pie? Leave a little comment in the box and let me know would you.


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